


No, you can't

by Monilovely



Category: South Park
Genre: Abusive Parents, Antichrist Damien Thorn, Domestic Violence, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Music, M/M, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28858446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monilovely/pseuds/Monilovely
Summary: He always came to take care of him once the lights are turned off and everyone goes to sleep.
Relationships: Philip "Pip" Pirrip/Damien Thorn
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	No, you can't

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Não Pode, Não](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21552208) by [Monilovely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monilovely/pseuds/Monilovely). 



> This story was inspired by a portuguese song called Bob by Kamaitachi

Pip's parents never understood why he kept staring at the window at bedtime. That boy was weird. He drew awkward drawings, didn't respond when they called him because he was looking at a fixed spot on the wall or ceiling, spoke with shadows, and woke up to the biggest mess in his room, even though he insisted he slept all night.

His father had been insisting that they threw him out for many years, in the silence of the room he shared with his mother, where no one was hearing them but the walls and the moon’s shadow. In fact, none of them knew the reason for keeping him around since he only brought headaches to the family.

But that didn't bother Pip. He was used to that reaction from people who stayed around him for too long. He always tried to lighten that burden on his parents. Cleaning his room every day before he went to school, finishing his lessons in advance, cleaning the house, cooking and pouring his heart into drawings about his family and how much he appreciated them for keeping him by their side for so long.

After locking the window, his mother laid him on the bed and kissed his forehead, affection wrapped around her lips, wishing him a quiet good night and walking out the open door, the hall’s light fading seconds after.

Pip's blue eyes stared at the window and his mouth let out a tired sigh. The night was so beautiful, with a starless sky and the moon hidden behind the thick clouds. He got sleepy and yawned just by looking at that beautiful view.

Giving in to the weight on his eyelids, he rested his head on his pillow and closed his eyes. His breathing returned to normal, and soon the sounds and shadows passing through the window and the hallway were nothing more than background noise, ignored by Pip's tired mind.

Twenty minutes later, his eyes opened like plates, his body showing no movement at all. The blue of his irises focused on the door, watching the dancing shadows reflected from the open window.

The handle of an old music box began to spin, the squeaky, out-of-tune music echoing through the dark room and breaking the silence.

Pip's ever-curious eyes darted to the corner of the room to the left of the door where the little box played and the handle turned.

His body didn't move a single muscle, but his mouth curved into a smile.

They were sleeping.

Slowly he lifted his body and sat on the bed, the sheet lovingly draped over his shoulders slipping to his waist.

He could see him. The shadow at the door entrance. He could see him.

Pip turned to the window, the blues in his eyes blending in with the bright crimson shadow in his window.

“Damien! You came!” The blonde exclaimed with happiness and a wide smile.

The smile was answered with a sharp-toothed one and gleaming white in the light of the runaway moon.

The shadow leaped off the railing and straightened his black hair behind his ear.

“Of course I came. I always come.” he said as he walked away from the window to close the door. “The slut has gone to sleep, right?”

Pip nodded his head.

“She has. Daddy too.”

“How nice.” he sighed as he walked towards the crucifix Pip had hung beside the bed. "If she's already taken her medicine, she won't be up anytime soon."

_If we're lucky, soon will never come._

"Speaking of her, I still need to introduce you to my parents, right?"

Foster parents, but parents anyway.

Despite all the scolding, screaming, slapping, punching, kicking and punishing, parents anyway.

“This is not necessary.” Damien said, having just finished reversing the crucifix.

"They'd love to meet you, Damien." Pip insisted. "They always ask me who is holding my hand in the drawings. I wish I could introduce my best friend to them.”

“I don't want to meet them.” Damien muttered, pulling the Bible out of the nightstand drawer. "It would be better if they never entered here. Leave us alone to play all night long! Wouldn't that be awesome, Pip? The whole night, just for us?”

The blonde nodded, smiling.

“It would be so much fun indeed. You know I love spending time with you, Damien, but I also need to sleep to go to school tomorrow, otherwise I get tired and don't pay any attention to class.

Damien frowned, his joy fading as he dropped the book on the floor. With a snap of fingers, fire began to consume the pages as if they were nothing but that: pages. And for him they really were. Old and ugly pages, just material to feed his flames until the white pages were nothing but ashes under his feet.

“We could not need to go to school. You could be home all day playing with me. Wouldn't that be nice, Pip?”

"Yes, it would, but it's not healthy to stay long indoors."

Pip always thought of suggesting Damien to go to school with him to keep him company during the lonely English classes, but he always remembered that he couldn't.

Damien had a strange condition, yes, he had. Whenever someone lit the bedroom lights he hid under the bed, startled.

It was strange. Pip had never met anyone afraid of light. And he was afraid of _really_ afraid of light. Damien was so afraid that he made complete chaos in his room whenever someone turned on the light. Pip had already lost count of how many times he had dropped the flower vase that decorated his nightstand.

But Pip was good with crafts, always finding a way to fix everything with a bit of glue and some bandages that he would inevitably need. For you see, Pip himself was clumsy at times and ended up cutting himself with the glass. His luck was to have a friend as good as Damien. Whenever he visited, his red eyes darted up and down his body like a scanner, and when he saw the colored bandages decorating his fingertips, he pulled them toward him and kissed each of those little cuts. And in the blink of an eye, they were all gone, as if they had never been there in the first place.

“You're right.” Damien said, taking one of the saints from Pip's study table and throwing it into the fire. “Too much time without sunlight makes your skin weak and pale. It kills you faster.

Vitamin D was very important for health.

Pip wondered how much of this vitamin Damien had in his body to have such pale skin and still remain so energetic.

One more saint was thrown into the fire.

"Where do we go when we die, Damien?" Pip asked. “Do you think we're going to heaven? To hell? Anywhere?”

“It depends a lot on who you are talking about.” he said as he threw the Virgin Mary into the pile of ashes. "Your mother will be beaten with a thousand whips when she ends up in God's hands. Your father will go down. He’ll meet mine, actually.

Pip widened his eyes in amazement.

“Oh, how amazing! They will get along very well, I'm sure! Your father must be a very good person to raise someone as nice as you, Damien.”

The brunette smiled broadly.

"I'm sure my father will love to meet yours. He's not afraid of belts, is he?”

“Of course not!” Pip exclaimed. “He loves belts, he wears them for everything: when the pants are loose, when he’s excited, when he’s angry, when I'm messing up, for everything!”

Damien kept going through Pip's things without turning in his direction, throwing everything that didn't interest him in the growing pile.

“How about you?” Pip suddenly asked.

The brunette froze. 

“What about me?”

“Where do you go when you die? If your daddy was an angel, he must be someone very important. Are you going to heaven when you die?”

Damien bit back a laugh and continued to feed his fire.

“When I die, I disappear. I'm not going to heaven nor hell.”

The blonde's expression changed from curious to upset.

"But if you won't be in heaven, does that mean I won't see you when you die?"

Damien stopped at the second he would throw a miniature of Jesus Christ into the fire and turned to the blonde, his eyes glowing with tenderness and a soft smile on his lips.

"Oh, Pip, don't worry your little head about it." he walked to the bed and stroked the younger boy's blond hair. "No cherub will touch you. I will guarantee that.”

Pip smiled, calmer.

All he didn’t want was to be separated from Damien by death. He was his best friend, it would be very lonely without him around. Knowing they would be together for eternity was a comfort to his heart.

His body jumped at the sound of footsteps echoing down the corridor, his hands gripping Damien's arms and using him to support his trembling muscles.

“Dad woke up.” The footsteps went into the kitchen and then disappeared, followed by the front door’s slam. “He’s already leaving? So early? Dad is so devoted to his work… Will he see the other moms on the way?”

“Don’t even doubt it.” Damien answered, stroking Pip's hair between his fingers.

"Will I ever meet them someday? I wonder if they are cool. Maybe they cook as well as Mom.” he paused for a while, muttering. "Maybe I have other dads too."

“No. Just moms.”

"Oh, can't mom have other dads?"

Damien shook his head.

“No, she cannot.”

"I didn't know Mom couldn't do things either." Pip muttered. "I thought it was just me not being able to."

Damien denied it one more time.

“Nobody can't do that much, but they do anyway. Just like you stay up late to see me.”

Pip grinned.

“I can’t stay up late, Mom does not like me to do my tasks when I’m sleepy, says that gives you a bad future.”

_“Can't I just see this one last show? Please, mom! ”_

_"No, you can not. Staying up late is bad. ”_

No you can't, Pip.

No, you can’t.

You can’t.

No.

Pip's blue eyes darted from Damien's carmine ones to the pile in the middle of his room.

The fire went out.

Slowly, Damien rose from the bed and walked towards the window.

“Are you already leaving?” Pip asked with disappointment in his gaze.

The brunette went back to bed and kissed Pip's forehead fondly. With more affection than his mother ever had for him.

“Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it. After all, this is my home.” He slid his fingers through the younger boy's blond hair, down his arms covered in thin white cloth. He could almost see the markings of the marker across him, all the circles, numbers, symbols and stars he painted on his white skin with red. His lips lengthened into a smile full of pointy teeth. “Do you still remember, Pip?”

The blonde nodded, smiling back.

"You will never leave me, Damien. I know.”

The brunette's crimson eyes shone in the moonlight that now showed through the low clouds, waving goodbye to the heavens and preparing to lie down.

The sound of a door opening echoed down the corridor.

“I'll be back tomorrow night.”

With one last kiss on his forehead and one on his arm, high above those red-dotted scribbles and the sixes that stamped his skin, Damien said goodbye to Pip and walked to the window. His crimson of his eyes shone one last time towards the door, his brow furrowing and his teeth sharper than any blade, grumbling.

_Do not get in here._

As quiet as it came, Damien's silhouette disappeared. There was only the wind blowing the curtains and the shadows that reflected from the closed door left.

Pip smiled fondly at the window and layed back on his bed, his cheeks flushed with the warmth Damien had wrapped around him.

His sleep, though short, was calm, it always was when Damien visited him.

It wasn't the same as when his parents put him to sleep, where he would roll back and forth in bed, a restless sleep, taken by shadows and fire, fire, fire.

That's why he loved Damien's visits. He always came to take care of him when the lights went out and the others fell asleep.

Pip let out a sigh and let sleep carry him away, back into Damien's arms.

The music box stopped playing.


End file.
